A Black Dog Walking

my sweetest comfort
was to weep
into your fur
we were younger then
more resilient
when you curled by my side
in the midnight dark
perhaps you dreamed
of rabbits and bones
I lay wakeful
counting the hours
not daring
to dream at all
enough to be weary
exhaustion was my refuge
from the dull drudge and weight
of new daylight
life was all the effort

of lifting up one’s foot
and finding out a place
to put it down.
Only sometimes
late at night
when the strange people slept
you and I would go frisking
through woodlands
find the scent of rats,
track hedgehogs & foxes
see the smart grey
squirrels fly

~by Abigail Wyatt

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